


stabbed

by littlemiss_m



Series: Whumptober 2018 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Violence, Hospitals, M/M, Prompto Argentum Needs a Hug, Whumptober 2018, off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 06:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemiss_m/pseuds/littlemiss_m
Summary: Prompto wakes up in a hospital bed, Noctis by his side. All is not well.





	stabbed

**Author's Note:**

> The start of my whumptober drabbles... If you've ever read any of my previous works, you can probably guess what's gonna happen, but like -- Prompto's gonna get so badly hurt this month he'd enver forgive me if he was real lol. Anyways, the drabbles will most likely not be connected to each other & I probably won't manage all days, but here's the start of it.
> 
> Expect a lot of Prompto whump from this series. If that's to your tastes, please enjoy ;)

”Hey.”

Prompto blinked away the last remnants of the crust glueing his eyes shut and turned his head in the direction of the voice. Noctis stood by his bed, a cup of ice chips in his hands, the sight of which was enough to worsen the burning in Prompto's throat tenfold. He opened his mouth, no words coming out – only a sore hiss of air – but his friend understood all the same and carefully spooned some chips onto Prompto's tongue, like a bird feeding its young.

”Do you want me to call the doctor?” Noctis asked. ”Someone's gonna come check up on you in fifteen or so minutes even if I don't, they've got a good schedule going on.”

The ice was like the best of ambrosia in Prompto's mouth and he sighed, closed his eyes while suckling and mulling over the question. Noctis' words had been a little too much for him, his brain too foggy to really keep up with the pace, but... the more he thought about it, the more he shifted his sore muscles and felt around his aching body, the surer he was that he was okay enough.

After the ice had disappeared from his mouth, Prompto licked at his lips, a little surprised by the stitches he felt on his bottom lip. ”The staff told me they didn't want to give you any potions until after you were – awake,” Noctis spoke, white-faced and eyes shifty. ”In case you wanted to – fill a police report. 'Cause they'd need pictures for evidence.”

Prompto nodded slowly, suddenly tired. The words made so much sense. He felt ready to fall back asleep, but – with Noctis in the room, likely in the know already, clearly worried for his wellbeing... Prompto opened his eyes, unaware of having closed them in the first place, and parted his lips again.

Noctis placed another spoonful of ice in his mouth. ”Were you ever gonna tell me?” he asked, tone full of mourning. ”They – they said it's been going on a lot longer than just last night, and – _Astrals_ , Prom, I was so damn _scared_ when Ignis called me, I thought we were gonna lose you for good.”

Prompto winced around the ice chips. ”Wasn't really sure about it,” he whispered, voice still raw but finally functional, and when he felt around for Noctis' hand, the other didn't refuse the contact. ”'Cause I was just. I thought maybe it was just me, or something.”

Noctis inhaled sharply and let go of Prompto's hand in order to shove more ice at his face. ”He literally stabbed you last night, Prom,” he spoke in strained tones. ”He almost killed you.”

The words gave Prompto a pause and he stilled, mouth clamped around the plastic spoon. Noctis was right – he _had_ been stabbed, now that he thought about. His stomach was on fire under the heavy bandages taped to his torso and if he closed his eyes, he could almost see a dark shadow hunkering over his body, over his raised arms, and – Prompto swallowed the melting water and opened his eyes, searching for Noctis as his skin broke out in a clammy sweat.

”Prom?” Noctis asked, panicking, just as a needy whine tore free from Prompto's throat over the memory. He panted slightly and grasped at Noctis' hand, squeezing at the fingers with what little strenght he could muster. ”Prom, shit, what's happening–”

Prompto shook his head as rapidly as he could. ”No, shit, sorry, I just–” he rambled, laughing almost hysterically. ”Shit, dude, I just – I didn't think it was that bad, you know?”

He hadn't, not really, because a lot of it had seemed fair enough to him. It had been Prompto, after all, who kept on ditching his boyfriend for his best friend, who always prioritized the wrong things at the wrong times, so all those words – those insults, those arguments thrown around his tiny apartment – they had still been fair. But the first stinging slap on his cheek, the first punch, the edge of their kitchen table digging into his back when he was thrown at it...

That wasn't okay anymore. That, and the knife... Prompto bit into his bottom lip and felt around his stomach with his free hand, carefully prodding at the edges of the bandaging until the throbbing pains grew into a sting. He heard Noctis call his name and shook his head, tears hot under his eyelids, clinging to the calloused hand until he felt a weight settling on the bed by his hips.

”You're not gonna–” Noctis began, only to cut himself off with a tired exhale. ”You're not going back to him, are you? I mean, he's been arrested already, but like... he's apparently saying a robber tried to gut you or something, I don't know, but...”

Through the tears on his face, Prompto somehow managed a stuttery sigh. ”I'm scared,” he cried quietly, ”I'm so scared but–”

”We'll all be there for you,” Noctis cooed. Prompto nodded, sniffling. ”Iggy and Gladio and me. We're all here, Prom.”

Of course, Prompto knew this. Maybe, with enough time, he could believe it as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! <3 My tumblr is @missymoth is anyone is interested in that lol.


End file.
